


Last Of The Summer

by amyfortuna



Series: 2015 Season of Kink (Card 1) [4]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drunken Kissing, Elven Wine, F/F, Intoxication, community: seasons of kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 05:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4127490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Galadriel and Melian share the last of the Valinorean wine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Of The Summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vulgarweed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulgarweed/gifts).



> For my smoking/intoxication/aphrodisiacs [Season of Kink](http://seasonofkink.dreamwidth.org/8345.html) square. 
> 
> Thanks to Vulgarweed for the great prompt. Drunk Galadriel is awesome.

"Our spring and our summer are gone by," Artanis says sadly, swirling the golden liquid that is all that remains in her glass, the very last of the Valinorean wine she brought with her to Doriath. Her face is flushed, and she looks like she is about to burst into tears. Next to her on the sofa, Melian giggles softly. 

"What would you know about spring and summer, child?" she says, not unkindly, laying an arm carefully around Artanis' waist and drawing her down to rest her head against her shoulder. "You are right of course, but you never saw the Spring of Arda."

"We are doomed," Artanis goes on, more to herself than to Melian, "doomed to a long fading autumn, to a cold and bitter winter, to bare and leafless days." The wineglass looks as though it is about to tip over in her hand; Melian rights it unobtrusively. 

"There's no fault in autumn, my sweet," Melian says consolingly. She picks up her own wineglass and makes a gesture with it. "Now, then, to what shall we toast this last glass of Yavanna's vines? _To the trees, to the Sea, to the stars, to thee?_ " Her voice half-chants the last line of a traditional Doriathian toast. 

But Artanis shakes her head. The wineglass waves dangerously in her hand, nearly spilling. "I want to toast..." She pauses for a second, her words slightly slurring, gathering her thoughts. "I want to toast _you_ ," she goes on. "You are the most, the most..." She hesitates and then speaks firmly and decisively, as befitting a daughter of the House of Finwe. "The most. Of all the mosts, you are the mostest." Artanis raises her glass, gesturing toward Melian (and nearly spilling her drink again). Melian giggles as she watches her drink it dramatically, and then her gaze softens as Artanis collapses down against her, snuggling into her side. 

"Thank you for those very kind words, my darling," she says, and looks at the liquid still remaining in her own glass. "I will repay the compliment, and toast you in return." She raises her glass toward Artanis, and smiles down at her. "To my most brilliant student and my beloved friend," she says, and drinks the last of the wine. 

When she looks down again, Artanis is gazing up at her and the look on her face is intensely sober considering how much she's had to drink. "Only a friend?" she asks quietly, looking at Melian's mouth rather than in her eyes. 

Melian bends down, just a breath away from Artanis' lips. "If you wish to taste the summer once more, I am here."

Artanis rises up against her and kisses her mouth hard, her hands twining around Melian's neck. "One last taste is not enough," she whispers at last, against the curve of Melian's throat. "I would go on tasting you until the world faded from sight and memory, until the years numberless as the golden leaves falling from trees have swept over us." She sighs and draws back, gently, looking at Melian's face. "But that is not my fate."

"No," Melian says. "It is not your fate." Her hand brushes down over Artanis' hair, and she draws Artanis close again. "But it does not stop us from enjoying the days we have, until they are done." Her fingers slide down over Artanis' face, very lovingly, and she smiles. "Besides, the Valinorean wine may be done, but the vines of Beleriand are sweet enough, my golden one, and there is no reason to let our cups remain unfilled for long."


End file.
